Home
by MaddieJV
Summary: A little one shot about Natasha visiting Clint after missions.


Natasha stumbled into the dim apartment and dropped her bag. She didn't really care where it landed. She was too tired to care where _she_ landed.

"Natasha?" She heard whispered from somewhere in the dark. "That you?"

"We're you expecting someone else?" She whispered back, her sarcasm not as strong as usual. Clint chuckled softly as he turned on the lamp next to the couch where he

had fallen asleep. Natasha, used to the dark, shut her eyes to block it out. And to block out Clint's reaction to her appearance. She had a few scrapes and bruises but not as bad as the time she had come to Clint's apartment after her first solo mission.

 _Natasha's mission had been a tough one and she had gotten hurt. Not badly enough to warrant a stay in one of Shield's medical facilities, but hurt._

 _"Natasha!" Clint exclaimed loudly, rushing to her side. "Come here. Come on." He pulled her into the bathroom and started carefully taking her uniform off so he could see all the cuts and bruises she had received._

 _"It's not that bad." She protested upon seeing Clint's face. "I don't need stitches or anything. I made sure." She had gotten reprimanded by Clint many times before for not going to the hospital right away when it was clear she should have gotten stitches._

 _"Hush." He said, sitting her down on the toilet. He opened his medicine cabinet and pulled out gauze, ointment, and medical glue. After washing the blood off her skin with a warm washcloth he slowly went to work wrapping the smaller cuts and gluing shut the bigger. Natasha closed her eyes and sat silently while Clint helped her._

 _Clint moved her uniform slightly, which was pooled around her waist, and Natasha hissed in pain. Clint looked sharply at her knowing she was hiding something worse than a few cuts. "What-"_

 _"Nothing." She interrupted a little too quickly. Clint moved the uniform and saw a deep gash running down her thigh._

 _"And you weren't going to mention this?" Clint asked, hurt and angry._

 _"I said it doesn't need stitches."_

 _"But you're hurt. Natasha, we agreed a long time ago that we would tell each other when we were hurt. We can't be partners and hide things from each other. It won't work."_

 _Natasha didn't respond so Clint just went back to work. She stood carefully when he prompted and allowed him to pull her uniform down further so he could clean and wrap her leg. When he was finished Natasha's uniform lay on the floor and she was covered in little patches of bandage._

 _"May I stay here tonight?" She asked quietly._

 _"When would I ever say no?" Clint asked with a smile on his face. Natasha was glad he wasn't upset anymore. "I'm gonna head to bed." He squeezed her hand lightly and left her alone._

 _She brushed her teeth and cleaned her hair as best she could without a shower. She saw a red flannel shirt hanging on the back of the bathroom door and was grateful. She had no pajamas of her own. Pulling it on, she stepped out of the bathroom and towards Clint's bedroom._

 _There she hesitated. She and Clint had been friends almost since the beginning of their partnership but it had only gone that far. They took care of each other and worked missions together and crashed at one another's apartments when it got late, but nothing like what she wanted to do. What she was about to do. Taking a deep breath she steeled herself and pushed open his door._

 _"Clint?" She called softly. No response. He must have been asleep; he didn't know she was in the room. She crept over to the bed and could hear soft snoring. She smiled and pulled back the comforter, climbing into his bed._

 _She felt safe as she fell asleep._

 _Clint woke to sun streaming in through the hastily closed curtains. Groggily he rolled over and pulled the cover over his face. Painfully slowly he realized he wasn't alone in his bed and it took him another minute to realize who it was and to do anything about it. Awake in an instant he whipped the covers off his face._

 _"Hmmff." Mumbled the sleeping Natasha. She scrunched her face and curled tightly. Clint pulled the blanket back over her and smiled. While he hadn't expected it, it would be a lie to say he didn't want this._

 _"What?" Natasha asked, awake and seeing the smile on his face._

 _"You're in my bed." Clint said, still not quite believing it._

 _Natasha laughed softly and Clint couldn't be get enough. She inched closer to him and rested her forehead against his chest. "Is that okay?" She asked innocently. Clint kissed the top I her head in response._

 _"When would I ever say no?"_

"How did the mission go?" Clint asked, breaking her out of her reverie.

"Couple of samurais, an explosion. Not to bad. No stitches or anything." She stumbled to the couch, tired and sore. She collapsed next to Clint and he wrapped his arm around her shoulders.

"Sleep then. You'll feel better in the morning." She did as she was told using Clint as a pillow.

"Natasha. Hey. Tasha. Wake up." Clint carefully shook her awake. When she sat up he handed her a plate of food. This was his usual ritual when she came home from missions. A nice hot breakfast. She smiled and took the plate. He sat next to her again with his own plate of food and the two talked about her mission and plans for the following week.

After they were through eating Natasha went to take a shower and Clint picked up the book he was reading. He was so engrossed in the novel that he didn't notice when Natasha came back into the room.

She sat beside him and looked at him. She moved as close as she could without bumping him. That would definitely get his attention and she wanted to see how far she could go before he noticed.

Once she was as close as she could get without touching him she leaned over kissed his neck lightly. Startled, he looked over towards her and said, "oh. You're back!"

Natasha laughed against his neck and kept kissing. Clint set his book down and scooped her on to his lap. She managed to continue nipping at his neck as she repositioned her legs so she was straddling him. Clint rested one hand on her hip as his other hand pulled her gently in for a kiss. She was home.


End file.
